


Plausible deniability

by aurora_denian



Series: Electric Green [4]
Category: Captain America (2011), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Humor, M/M, Sexual Content, Talking, bad singing, closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-06
Updated: 2012-07-06
Packaged: 2017-11-09 07:42:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/453022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_denian/pseuds/aurora_denian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What exactly happened during those 12 hours that Steve and Tony were locked in that closet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plausible deniability

**Author's Note:**

> I want to start off by giving a big thank you to all of my readers, especially those that have voted! All of you are amazing! This is a shift from the flow of the series so far, but I felt like a little bit of a break, and to try my hand at a ship that I've loved for a while but just hadn't gotten around to trying out. I'd originally hoped to have this done and posted for the Fourth, but life sadly got in the way. Anyway, enjoy!

Steve knew something was off the moment he stepped through the door. Turning around quickly he tried to catch the door before it could close, only to hear the sure click of it hitting home. Frowning he reached out to grab the doorknob only to find...there was one. Who built a door without a doorknob on the inside? “It's no use. Only way in is from the outside. Only way out... well there is no way out actually.” Turning Steve finally saw the faint blue glow of Stark's arc reactor, the man himself sitting atop what looked like a stack of gym mats. “You might want to take a seat, Cap, we're going to be here for a while.”

 

Frowning Steve shook him head. “No, Miss Lewis is right outside. If we knock she should hear us and let us out.” His suggestion was met by a bark of laughter from the other man. “What's so funny?”

 

Shaking his head Tony hopped down from his perch. “So it was her. I wondered who could have possibly convinced my AI to turn against me. Smart girl, I should give her a raise.” Frowning he seemed to slip into his own thoughts. “If I pay her. I'm not sure if I actually do. I should start.”

 

Steve honestly had no idea what he was talking about, or even if Tony was still talking to him. “Do you have anyway of getting out? Some sort of safety to get the door open?”

 

Tony snorted, nodding his head condescendingly. “Yea, I've been cooling my heels in here for the last,” he stopped and looked at his watch. “Forty-five minutes, because there's some magic switch I can flip to get us out of here.” Turning around he walked back to his earlier perch and hopped up. “Take a seat, Capsicle, we're here for the long haul.”

 

Glowering, Steve crossed his arms. “I'd rather stand.” He hated the little jabs Tony took at him. Cap, Capsicle, Boy Scout. Each one let him know just how much the other man didn't like him. That was the worst part for Steve, that for what ever reason Tony hadn't liked him from the moment they met. Just another reminder that no matter how many years were between his past and the present somethings never changed. Feeling frustrated not only with the situation but with himself for caring so much he started pacing. “Someone should notice we're missing.”

 

Another snort of laughter echoed through out the room. “Ch'yea right.”

 

Stopping, Steve turned to glare at him. “They're our teammates. They'll notice our absence before too long.”

 

Leaning back against the wall Tony sent him a look that Clint had once described as the 'bitch please' look. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to the way language was used now, particularly the hard and fast way that expletives were tossed around. “Let's see. It's almost eight o'clock on a Thursday which means Thor's currently passed out in the godly equivalent of a diabetic coma. Romanov is curled up in bed reading. Barton is wherever he disappears to every Thursday at seven thirty. Bruce is currently in Indonesia doing who knows what. Then there's us, and we both know where we are. Not to mention I very rarely leave my workshop for any reason, and you spend more time destroying punching bags then most people spend at work. So yea, I highly doubt anybody is going to miss us before morning.” Stretching out on the mats Tony placed his hands behind his head. “Now, I'm going to be taking a nap, so keep the muttering and pacing to a minimum, k?” When Steve didn't answer Tony shrugged. “K.”

 

Not knowing what else to do Steve went back to examining the door. Like he was going to voluntarily be stuck with Tony Stark all night.

 

 

_**8:27 pm** _

 

“I'm bored.” Steve sighed, but didn't look away from where he was examining the door. Stark's 'nap' had been about five minutes of quiet followed by broadcasting his 'boredom' every five minutes since.

 

“You could always help me look for a way out of here.” Steve suggested as poked at where he thought the hinges were. Really guessing was all that he could do at this point since there really wasn't enough light to see anything. Stark just gave a 'hmph' and didn't move. Rolling his eyes Steve crouched down to look at the bottom hinge area. If he wasn't going to help Steve wished he would at least shut up.

 

The fifteen minutes that followed where blissful, till “I'm bored.” He swore he was going to shoot the man, and there wasn't a jury alive that would convict him.

 

_**9:06 pm** _

 

“Are you sure you don't know anyway out of here?” Was met with silence for a moment followed by a resounding 'nope'. At least he'd stopped with the 'I'm bored's about a half hour ago. Steve counted that as a small blessing. Till the singing started.

 

_**10:38 pm** _

 

“Can you _please_ stop singing?” Steve was two seconds away from banging his head against the wall so hard that he passed out. Then maybe he'd get some peace. He'd given up looking at the door an hour ago, instead sitting with his back to the wall enduring the best of what Dr. Banner referred to as 'mullet rock', whatever that meant.

 

There was a pause for a moment. “No.” Stark finally answered. “But I do take requests.”

 

Holding back a growl Steve said, “How about something from before the Nixon administration.” That seemed to shut him up for a moment, but Steve didn't know if it was the sarcasm or the fact that he'd actually made the request.

 

“ _Oh you can take the high road, or you can take the low road. Go the way the wind is blowin'. Take the main road, the side road, the cross road, the rail road. As long as you keep goin'_.” Filled the closet, Stark changing from his loud screeching to a consistent tenor.

 

Steve leaned his head against the wall, letting the words wash over him. He almost felt like asking Stark how he even knew the song but he couldn't bring himself to open his mouth to ask, to break the moment. Closing his eyes he wasn't in that dim closet anymore, he was in a dim bar, somewhere in Europe, didn't matter where. The Commandos were around him, drinking, telling stories. Peggy was there, dress as red as her lipstick. Bucky, alive and well, sitting beside him making eyes at one of the cigarette girls that passed by. It was perfect. It was exactly what he wanted, more then anything else in the world. It was... it was hollow somehow. Like something was missing from it, something important, though he had no idea what. It was everything he'd wanted, still wanted, but it didn't have JARVIS telling him the morning forecast before his run. Or Natasha to jump out from behind the coach and attack him just to 'keep him on his toes'. There was no Clint perched on top of the refrigerator in the in the middle of the night. No Thor joyfully retelling some story from centuries before the rest of them were born. No Miss Lewis to glare at him when he called her that. No Tony to call him Capsicle, or Rip Van Winkle, or any of the other dozen names he called him.

  
It was what he wanted, but it wasn't his life anymore, this was. Being a superhero with his face plastered on shirts and coffee mugs. Living in a tower run by a talking machine. Getting locked in a closet for who knows what ends. This was his life. Weird, unexpected definitely, but it was his now. He kind of liked that.

 

While he sat there thinking Stark finished up the song, going quiet. “Thanks.” Steve finally said, still not moving from his seat.

 

The “You're welcome.” was almost too quiet for Steve to hear. Stark stopped singing after that.

 

_**11:59 pm** _

 

What ever truce they'd come to an hour and a half before seemed to be over. Though this time instead of singing, or broadcasting his boredom he was reciting a long string of numbers. Steve set down the screw driver he'd randomly stumbled upon earlier, turning his head towards the other man. “Can you please stop.” There was a small pause before he continued. “I meant for the duration of the time that we're in here.”

 

“You should have specified.” was the only response he got before starting again from zero.

 

Sighing Steve stood, stretching his back. “Fine. Can you please stop reciting...whatever it is your reciting for the duration of our time in here.”

 

“The Fibonacci sequence.” Stark answered.

 

Steve forwarded his brow, not really sure how that was an appropriate response. “What?”

 

Giving a big huff Stark sat up, looking at him for the first time in over two hours. “The Fibonacci sequence.” He said each word slowly, like he was explaining it to a child. When Steve continued to stare at him blankly Stark huffed again. “Really? I thought you studied art before the war.” Jumping off of his perch he stretched. “The Fibonacci sequence is a specific integer sequence in which the next number in the sequence comes from adding the two previous numbers together. Zero plus one equals one. One plus one equals two. Two plus one equals three, and so on and so forth. It's like a math game. Keeps me from being bored.” Waiting for a beat he retook his seat, and started with zero again.

 

Shaking his head Steve bent to pick up his screwdriver again. “I give up.” he said, going back to jamming the screwdriver in the seam of the door. At least if he knew the method behind the madness he could ignore it better. Not to mention an entertained Stark was one less likely to get on his nerves.

 

_**1 am** _

 

He gave up. Captain America finally gave up on something. It took almost six hours, but still he had to finally admit that there was no way they were getting out of here anytime soon. Miss Lewis would be in, in about six hours, and he could only hope that she felt merciful enough to let them out as soon as she got here.

 

“Hey, Cap. You asleep?” Steve thought about not answering him, just closing his eyes and feigning sleep.

 

“No.” he finally answered, his throat feeling thick. “No. I'm not asleep.”

 

There was silence for a few moments. “You wanna play a game?” There was hesitation in his voice as he asked, and Steve couldn't overlook the childlike note that tinted the words.

 

“Why not.” he replied standing up from his spot. “What game?” he asked coming to a stop right beside the mats Stark was sitting on.

 

The other man seemed to contemplate it for a minute before shrugging. “Truth or dare?” he suggested.

 

Steve just shrugged. “Alright, but you're going to have to explain the rules to me.” He didn't feel completely comfortable with the gleam in Stark's eyes but he figured it was too late to back out now. So instead he squared his shoulders and took a seat on the stack of mats opposite the other man. At the very least this should be interesting.

 

_**1:35 am** _

 

They'd only been playing 'truth or dare' for a half an hour and Steve had already lost his shirt. Literally. He didn't really know what the objective of the game was, but he had a feeling Stark was using it as a way to make him slowly freeze to death. They'd somehow migrated to the floor, facing each other, but Steve doesn't actually remember moving. Sitting up straighter he looked the other man straight in the eye and said: “Truth.”

 

Tapping his chin with one long, elegant finger, bottom lip jutted out in concentration Stark looked at him, and for a moment Steve found it hard to breath. Grabbing hold of that feeling he stuffed it down. He knew that things were different now, but old fears never really died, like the voice in the back of his head reciting the lectures the nuns used to give. Still different or not Stark didn't like him, and in all honesty there were times when Steve could barely tolerate him. “Have you ever thought about it?”

 

Sputtering slightly Steve looked at him with wide eyes. “It?” he choked out before he could help it.

 

“Yea,” Stark shrugged. “What life would have been like, without the ice.” Leaning back he gave Steve a weird look. “What did you think I was asking?”

 

Shaking his head Steve just shrugged. “I do. Think about what could have been,” he answered softly. “but then I think about all of the people I never would have met. All the things I never would have seen.” He shrugged again this time seemingly trying to say 'what can you do?'. “So there.” Clearing his throat he decided to take control. “Your turn. Truth or dare?”

 

“Truth.” Steve had to suck in a deep breath at that. The entire game Stark's answer had been the same, 'dare' with a cheeky little smirk on his face. Now he seemed open, relaxed.

 

Knowing he'd probably never get another opportunity like this Steve went with the question he'd been dieing to ask since they met on the Helicarrier. “Why do you hate me?” He almost wanted to pull back the words as soon as he'd said them, something passing in Stark's eyes that he couldn't read.

 

“I don't.” he answered, his voice softening just slightly. “Fuck.” Running a hand through his hair he gave Steve a look of clear exasperation. “You honestly... is that why...” Shaking his head, he looked at Steve, a small smile playing on his lips. “I admire you. I find you annoying. I think your a better human being then I could ever dream of being. I have a lot of opinions about you, Cap, but I don't hate you.” A long moment of silence passed between them, only being broken by Tony slapping his hand to his thigh. “Well, game over I guess. You should get some rest, we can't all be as ruggedly handsome as me with out a little beauty sleep.”

 

As he made to stand up Steve reached out, curling one hand around a wrist that seemed far more breakable then it had a second ago. “Tony.” the other man stilled at the use of his first name, possibly the first time he had ever heard Steve use it. “It's your turn to ask me.”

 

They seemed closer, so close Steve could see Tony's tongue dart out to wet his lips in the glow of the arch reactor. “Truth or dare?” His tone didn't make it clear what he was asking exactly, but Steve already knew his answer.

 

“Dare.” he sounded more confident then he felt, a thousand different emotions running through his chest. Mostly though, there was hope. Hope he'd read the ques right. Hope that he could deal with what came next. Hope that he hadn't just messed up a possible friendship with Tony just for the sake of attraction.

 

“I dare you,” he began, leaning just a bit closer. “not to move.” Steve almost opened his mouth to ask what he meant only to feel the sudden warm pressure of lips against his own. It was different then either of the kisses he'd experienced before. Tony's lips were thinner, his facial hair grazing gently against Steve's skin, the smell of metal, and oil, and day old cologne melding with a purely masculine undertone that just registered as Tony. When he felt a tongue trace the seam of his lips he didn't hesitate to open them, catching the faintest hint of coffee as Tony brushed their tongues together.

 

When he finally pulled back they were both breathing heavily, heat rising in their cheeks. Their eyes locked for the briefest second before Steve hand moved of its own accord, wrapping around the back of Tony's neck to pull him in for another kiss. Steve only remembered that he was shirtless when he felt Tony's hand slide up his chest to the side of his neck, slowly drawing circles with his thumb as he went. Tony pulled back a minute later, only for his mouth to work its way down to Steve's pulse point, sucking a startled little gasp out of him. After that things got fuzzy for a moment, the only things registering are the feel of Tony's mouth drawing hot paths across is neck, and the smooth cotton of his shirt under Steve's fingertips.

 

“Off.” Steve growled a minute later, causing Tony to pull back and looking at him questioningly. The space between them gave Steve just enough room to worm his hands up under Tony's shirt, pulling it over his head, and dropping it to the floor. If Steve could muster the brain power for a coherent thought he would admit that he really had no idea what he was doing, but in that moment all he cared about was running his hands of the slightly muscled planes of Tony's stomach, of latching onto his neck until he knew there would be marks there the next day.

 

Anyone who thought Steve was a blushing virgin didn't know too much about what war times were like. He'd only slept with one person before, a young French woman named Emilie, but that hadn't been about love, or even sex. It had been about being behind enemy lines, about the bombs that they had somehow escaped. It was about feeling alive if only for a few minutes. They hadn't even kissed, just clung to each other and ridden out the adreniline high together. She hadn't cared, and while he always thought his first time would be special, he also realized that life didn't work out that way.

 

None of that helped him now, gripping tightly to Tony as they explored each other bodies. Tony was a teammate, his almost friend. He was a man of the twenty-first century, a world away from where Steve gained his basic knowledge of what went on between two men. Whispered words he wasn't supposed to hear, conjecture based on anatomy books from his drawing classes. He didn't know what to do, so he did what he always did and pushed forward, hoping everything would come in time.

 

The first time Tony's hand worked its way between their body to gently grind him through his pants he mewled and had to bite the inside of his lip so he wouldn't cum. “No lube.” Tony whispered against his lips, not giving Steve time to process before he felt the zipper of his pants being pulled down. The feel of Tony's bare hand against his cock sent sparks down his spin, and if he whimpered when that hand retreated he felt no shame in it. The sound of another zipper being undone pulled Steve away from exploring the skin around the edge of the arch reactor, his gaze lowering as he watched Tony remove in own cock from his pants, hissing as he did so.

 

Tony moved slowly, pulling Steve into a lingering kiss as he straddled his thighs, pulling them closer together. Looking Steve straight in the eye he wrapped one hand around both their cocks and slowly began to stroke.

 

It was like nothing Steve had ever experienced, the feel of their skin rubbing together, Tony's fingers wrapped tightly around them, his other hand in his hair as he deepened their kiss. As soon as Steve felt his hips begin to jerk of there own accord he knew he wasn't going to last long. A few seconds, or minutes, or hours, later he felt the pinch in his stomach before sparks flew behind his eye, drawing a strangled cry from his throat. He felt Tony stiffen a moment later, biting into his collarbone as he cried out his own release.

 

They stayed still for a few moments, basking in the afterglow before Tony began to rub a piece of cloth over them to clean up the evidence of their actions. He started to pull away, only for Steve to wrap an arm tightly around his waist, pulling him closer till their foreheads touched. “We should do this again sometime.” he mumbled, his thumb tracing nonsense patterns on Tony's hip. Tony raised his gaze, starring at Steve with some odd combination of doubt and disbelief. “Maybe after we grab some dinner.” It was a casual statement, but Steve's insides knotted themselves together.

 

“Dinner sounds good.” he replied, dropping a kiss to Steve's mouth. “But,” he drawled, pulling back with a smirk on his face. “We're already here, half naked, half cocked.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “Might as well.” Laughing Steve pulled him close again, answering with a kiss.

 

_**4:14 am** _

 

Steve wasn't completely sure how they ended up cuddling with their backs against the door, but he's pretty sure it happened before they put their shirts back on. “You know,” Tony breathed against his shoulder. “they're all going to think we fucked.”

 

Steve looked down at him, brow crinkling. “But we did.” he countered, confusion tinting his words.

 

Tony laughed, nuzzling him slightly. “ _I_ know that and _you_ know that, but they're going to speculate like it's going out of style.” Puffing out a breath he shifted slightly to get comfortable. “That means we get a few weeks to figure this thing out.”

 

Steve licked his lips nervously. “Do you want that? For this to be a _thing._ ”

 

Tony stayed quiet for a moment before pressing a kiss to Steve's shoulder. “Yea, that sounds nice.”

 

_**7:33 am** _

 

The next thing Steve knew he was falling backwards, Tony sprawling on top of him as their team, plus Miss Lewis looked down at them. After Tony's hasty retreat and the Avengers dispersing back to whatever they'd been doing before, he stuttered out a thank you to Miss Lewis, barely waiting for her acceptance before he started towards the kitchen. “Oh, and Captain Rogers?” he heard her call out. Glancing over his shoulder he saw the smirk gracing her full lips. “Your shirts on inside out.” Feeling heat rise in his neck he changed course. A cold shower and fresh cloths were sounding very pleasant.

 

Stopping outside his door Steve noticed a small piece of paper jammed in the door frame.

 

_I had Pepper order you a suite, it'll be here at three. Garage dinner 7(ish)._

 

Smiling Steve pocketed the note and hurried inside. After all he had a date to get ready for.

 

**Author's Note:**

> The song Tony sings is "Hit the road" by the Andrews Sisters.
> 
> All voting for this series has ended, though keep reading, you never know when I might open another one. Thanks to all those who have voted!


End file.
